


9 Months

by jugandbettsdetectiveagency



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-24 01:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10731633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jugandbettsdetectiveagency/pseuds/jugandbettsdetectiveagency
Summary: A few snapshots over the course of Betty and Jughead's first pregnancy





	9 Months

“Morning, Betts,” Jughead mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he shuffled into the kitchen, following the wafting scent of pancakes and bacon. She flicked a glance at him over her shoulder, warmth filling her chest at his dishevelled state - he never was a morning person. Ever since they’d moved into their first apartment together, gotten a permanent home, Jughead always made the most of having a warm bed to sleep in that he wasn’t worried about getting kicked out of at first light. The fact that it was Betty who was next to him, warming it, was the best added bonus he could have asked for. 

“Hey, sleepy head,” she cooed affectionately, turning back to the pan to flip the breakfast before it burnt. Betty was already up and ready for her work day, fresh faced and bright eyed, pencil skirt perfectly smooth and put together. Jughead didn’t know how she did it - he would be forever grateful that his job allowed him to work from home. “Did you sleep okay?” she asked pleasantly. Jughead hummed in contentment, coming up behind her to rest his chin on her shoulder, wrapping his warm arms around her waist. 

“All the better for having you next to me,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against her temple. He couldn’t help it, he couldn’t a picture a time when he wouldn’t be as in love with Betty as he always had been. She made everything easier, even breathing. It was a high he wasn’t willing to give up. A soft pink blush tinged her cheeks, apples prominent due to the bashful smile that played across her lips. He loved that he could make her respond to his words like that. She twisted in his arms, breakfast momentarily forgotten, to gaze up into his slightly hooded eyes, resting her palms on his chest. 

“Say what you like about yourself but you’re a charmer, Jughead Jones. Always will be,” she whispered against his smirk, leaning up on her tiptoes, still bare of her heels for the time being, to place a gentle kiss to his lips, hands moving to cup his cheeks. He sucked in a breath through his nose, tightening his arms around her frame and pulling her harder against his chest as he tilted his head to deepen the action.

“Ow!” Betty pulled back with an unexpected shriek, Jughead releasing her instantly, leaving his arms hovering just inches from her body. She moved her hands to cradle her chest gently, frown pinching at the space between her eyebrows.

“What’s wrong?” Jughead asked, concern lacing his tone as his eyes flicked over her every inch, checking for damages. 

“Nothing, just... tender,” she said, gesturing to her boobs as she shook her head. “Guess it’s just coming up to that time of the month,” she shrugged dismissively. Jughead exhaled slightly in relief. She glanced up at him from beneath thick eyelashes, green eyes glinting with mirth. “So hands off, mister,” she teased. Jughead rolled his eyes, cupping the back of her neck as he dropped a chaste kiss to her forehead before moving to pick up her discarded spatula and continue making their breakfast. 

*** 

Betty felt sick. And not just queasy sick, like ‘run to the bathroom puke your guts out’ sick. She tried to take deep breaths in through her mouth to quell the sudden, rising nausea that had settled in the pit of her stomach. All attempts were shot to hell when one of her coworkers walked past her desk, the smell of whatever lunch they were carrying drifting to her nose, making her throat constrict around a gag. 

She flew out of her seat, dodging colleagues as she raced towards the bathroom, barely making it in front of the bowl before her pancakes and bacon made a repeat appearance. 

Ugh, pancakes... she thought, the idea of any food causing her stomach to turn over once again. She sat back against the cubicle wall, wiping the damp sheen from her forehead with the back of her hand. She’d felt fine this morning. Actually... if she thought about it she really felt fine again now. She mentally prayed that she didn’t have some kind of weird stomach bug as she clambered to her feet, desperately in need of finding some gum. 

***

She was absolutely starving. Seriously, her stomach was rumbling loud enough to inform the entire floor of her office about her current needs. Betty shifted in her seat, trying to find a way to stifle the next wave of gurgling that was brewing in her gut. It was entirely perplexing; one minute she was hunched over a porcelain bowl, the next she couldn’t stop thinking about what she could get her hands on to eat. 

Sighing, she grabbed her phone, tapping on the message icon, Jughead’s name right at the top of her list. She knew he was supposed to be focused on writing today, but with the morning she’d had she just really felt like seeing her husband. A wave of unidentified emotions washed over her as she sat staring at the device in her hand. God, she just really missed him. Like, was it always this hard to spend the day away from him? Why hadn’t she noticed before?

Wanna meet me for lunch? x She typed quickly, already knowing his answer. The three little dots were gone as fast as they appeared. 

On my way.

***

“Betty? Everything alright?” Jughead asked gingerly as he tapped on the panel of their bathroom door. There was a heavy pause. “Betts, you’ve been in there a while I just wanted to check-” He was cut off by the door swinging open suddenly, revealing a very dishevelled looking Betty. Her eyes were wide and glistening with tears that pooled along her waterline before following the already wet trails down her flushed cheeks. Loose tendrils of her golden hair fell about her face, some sticking up at amusing angles. Her lips were dark pink and full like she’d been chewing on them nervously. Jughead’s eyes went wide as he took in her state, hands instantly going to smooth her hair, thumbs brushing over her damp cheeks. “What is it? What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he rushed out, eyes scanning her face for any indication of what had upset her. 

She opened her mouth, no sound escaping, before just shaking her head, trembling hand pointing to the bathroom counter. His gaze followed her finger until it landed on the little white stick that was resting on the smooth granite. He walked towards it with numb legs, picking it up with hands that were now shaking just as much as hers. The word stared back at him, clear as day.

Pregnant. 

He turned to look at her, lips parted in silent shock. Her bottom lip with tucked between her teeth again, a nervous habit, fingers twisting with each other as she looked at him with apprehensive eyes. He could see something else simmering beneath the surface though, waiting for the right moment to burst free. 

“Are you really...?” he trailed off, eyes shining, every inch of his body tingling with adrenaline, hope tinging his voice. Betty couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth tilting up slightly at his tone. She nodded, lips quivering as she took in a breath.

“Yeah,” she whispered, smile growing as a full blown grin spread across Jughead’s face. He rushed towards her, scooping her up in his arms and twirling her round as she giggled gleefully, arms coming up to wrap around his neck tightly. He placed her back on the ground, not moving to release her from his hold at all. She was positively glowing in his embrace. He couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten. “You’re happy?” she asked timidly, fingers playing with the short hairs at the base of his neck. He let out a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head slightly. 

“Betty, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life,” he gushed, slipping one hand round her waist to settle over her still flat abdomen. “You are the best gift that life has ever given me, and now you’re giving me another one. You’re incredible, this is incredible. I love you so much,” he whispered, leaning in to press a bruising kiss against her lips as a fresh wave of happy tears cascaded down her cheeks. 

***

“Wait! Stop right there, the light is perfect,” he commanded, holding out a palm to pause her in her tracks. “I want to get a picture of the bump,” he smiled, raising the camera to his face as Betty rolled her eyes, complying with his wishes nonetheless. Once he’d actually had enough money to invest in the equipment, Jughead had discovered a newfound passion for photography. Just like with writing he could express himself through the images he captured, finding the extraordinary in the ordinary. And one of his favourite subjects of all time was definitely his beautiful wife. 

“I’m barely showing still, Juggie. I just look like I’m bloated from eating a giant burrito!” she whined, bowing her back slightly to make the tiny swell stick out more in front of their bay window, resting her hands on her waist where she arched. She was only wearing some dark green shorts and a sports bra, makeupless, hair thrown up in a messy bun on top of her head. The countless fly-aways there caught the early evening sunset that was pouring into their living room, lighting her hair up in a halo of golds and pinks and oranges while leaving the rest of her frame in shadow, little bump popping against the overexposed sky as she stood side on to Jughead’s camera. 

“I wanna capture all of it,” he said with a small smile, ignoring her protests as he took a couple of shots. He’d been obsessed with the bump ever since she’d popped about a week ago. He couldn’t keep himself from running his fingers over it while they laid in bed, resting his hands over it as they snuggled together on the couch watching a movie, placing gentle butterfly kisses on top of it first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He’d not told Betty yet but he’d already started talking to it, only after his wife had fallen asleep, tiny whispers into the darkness for his and the baby’s ears only. Promises of a wonderful life. 

He lowered his camera to look at her, dazed smile still resting contentedly on his lips as he watched her watch something out on their street. It was never the life he would have written for himself, but he thanked whatever author that was out there who did.

“Are you done? I have to pee,” she said bluntly, pulling him abruptly from his romantic thoughts with a chuckle. He held up his palms in surrender, backing away, happy to go and upload them to his computer as soon as possible. 

***

“Betts, what is it?” he asked in panic, quickly coming to her side as he saw the tears in her eyes. He rest one hand in her hair, fingers gripping the delicate silken strands, while the other went directly to her bump. Betty pressed her lips together, shaking her head where she stood in front of their kitchen sink. 

“I’ve just gone to the store and we needed garbage bags and I forgot to get them and we’ve completely run out!” she wailed, gesturing viciously to the trash can like it was the enemy. Jughead blinked in shock, face like stone for a single moment, before he cracked. He burst out laughing, tears springing to his own eyes as he doubled over, clutching at the aching strain creeping into his sides. She glared at him disapprovingly. 

“Is-is that all?” he wheezed, pretending to wipe away a drop of moisture from beneath his eye. 

“It’s not funny, Forsythe Jones!” He sobered slightly at hearing her use his given name, amused smile still dancing around the edges of his mouth. “I’m so damn emotional all the time it’s driving me insane,” she moaned, eyes titled downwards at the corners in frustration. He pulled her close, planting a kiss to her forehead. She sighed, closing her eyes to enjoy the soothing sensation of having him close, sifting through every mixed feeling battling for attention in her head. 

“I know, sunshine. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard this is for you. You’re incredible,” he murmured against her skin. Her sniffles signified she’d calmed down somewhat. “Would you like me to go out and get garbage bags?” he asked, tone soft. She stiffened slightly against him,

“No...” she said tentatively. He pulled back to look at her in question, one eyebrow raised. “I can see them under the counter, they must’ve rolled out of the bag,” she admitted in a small voice, cheeks red at her hormone induced outburst. 

***

“Jughead? Jug? Jug, are you awake? Juggie?” The chorus of his name pulled him from the depths of his slumber, groaning as he blinked groggily into the darkness.

“Hmm,” he managed to get out incoherently. He turned his head to look at Betty, finding her sitting cross-legged next to him on her side of the bed. He rolled over, hand coming out automatically to run over the ever-growing swell of her stomach. “You okay?” he asked, voice still thick and gravelly with sleep. 

“Uh-huh,” she replied, placing her tiny palm on top of his hand. There was a pause as he waited for her to continue.

“Was that all?” he asked, amusement clear in his voice underneath the frustration at having been woken at some ungodly hour.

“You know what sounds good right now?” she asked, completely bypassing his question. He was more awake now, leaning up on an elbow to look at her with teasing eyes, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. 

“What sounds good?” he questioned, indulging her. Betty bit her lip against an excited smile. 

“Salt and vinegar chips covered in warm nutella,” she grinned, eyes sparkling even in the darkness. He huffed out a laugh, just about getting used to her cravings by now. 

“Betty, would you like me to get you salt and vinegar chips covered in warm nutella?” he asked with a smirk. She looked away from his teasing eyes, shrugging gently.

“Well, if you’re up...” she replied cheekily. He laughed, throwing his head back slightly before rising up to capture her lips in a loving kiss, moving down to drop another to her stomach before throwing the covers off his legs and making his way downstairs. 

***

Betty had her feet propped in Jughead’s lap, his magical hands rubbing her sore, swollen ankles. She tipped her head back, letting out an appreciative sigh, eyes sliding shut.

“Hey, Betts? What do you want for dinner later? I could make that pasta you like or-” His sentence was cut short as her hand flew out, grabbing his arm. “What?” he asked in confusion. Betty’s eyes were wide and unfocused. 

“Say something?” she all but whispered, turning her gaze to focus on his face. 

“What? What do you mean, Betts, what do you want me to say?” he asked, still entirely bewildered. Tears shone in her eyes, a look of complete wonderment lighting up her face. She grabbed his hand, placing it on her lower belly. 

“Talk,” she commanded. Jughead finally understand her meaning, features rearranging themselves into one of apprehension, suddenly nervous at what to say.

“Are they moving because of-” He felt it. One swift quick beneath his palm. His throat closed up as he dropped lower, resting his cheek against the bump, Betty’s hands instantly going to his hair. 

“They can hear you, Jug, they like your voice,” Betty whispered, glowing as she stared down at her husband. Jughead took a steadying breath.

“Hey, baby,” he whispered. “How’s it going in there? I’m your daddy...”

***

“I’m home!” Jughead called out into the house as he kicked off his shoes, throwing his jacket onto the rack. “Betts?” he asked when there’s no reply, wandering into the living room in search of her. Suddenly she was flying at him out of nowhere, his arms filling with a strawberry scented goddess. There was no preamble as she pulled his mouth to hers, running her tongue over the seam of his lips, begging him to open them for her. She used his resulting groan to gain access, swirling her tongue with his, pushing every curve of her body roughly against him. Her hands were in his hair, tugging gently at the roots, or gripping his bicep, or running over his back, everywhere all at once, surrounding him. He pulled back when they were breathless and panting, eyes slightly glazed and pupils blown. “Well, hello to you, too,” he gets out between pants. “What did I do to receive such a gracious welcome from my wonderful wife?”

“New pregnancy symptom,” she heaves, slightly exposed chest dancing enticingly before him from where her already low cut top had fallen askew. “I’ve been so ridiculously turned on all day and you haven’t been here,” she admitted almost accusingly, eyes trailing shamelessly over his body. All the blood rushed from his head, moving directly south as she bit her kiss-swollen lower lip, eyes darkening by the second. 

“Well,” he began, throat thick. “We should definitely do something about this,” he said, nodding, face serious. “As husband and father of your unborn child it is my job, nay, my duty to take care of your every need during this pregnancy,” he finished formally. She giggled prettily, flush moving down to spread over her neck and chest. The next minute she let out a surprised squeal as he scooped her up into his arms, heading for the stairs.

***

“Okay... if we just... yep. There, do you see? It’s a girl,” the technician announced, offering the couple a small, pleased smile. 

“A girl!” Betty murmured excitedly, gripping at Jughead’s hand tighter. He felt as if all the air had left the room, chest tightening.

“A girl,” he repeated, tears forming in his eyes. 

Betty could tell there wasn’t something right on the way home, not voicing her concerns but still throwing him worried glances every so often during the drive, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the wheel. 

She found him later in his office, folded in on himself, back against the wall, hands pulling at his dark, mussed waves. 

“Juggie? What is it?” she whispered softly, trying to join him in his spot on the floor as slowly and gracefully as possible. He looked up at her, eyes rimmed red.

“We’re having a girl, Betts. A little girl, and she’s all ours. What if I mess her up? What if she ends up...” he choked on his own tears, pushing back the memories of his own youth. Betty pulled his head to rest against her chest, cradling it gently as she rubbed soothing circles against his back.

“Shh, Jug, it’s going to be okay. We’re not our parents,” she reminded him, repeating his famous words to her. It had become almost like a mantra for them over the years of their relationship. “You’re going to be the best dad ever, this little girl isn’t going to know what darkness looks like with you in her life. She’ll be safe, and loved, and it’ll be all thanks to you. To us,” she whispered into the top of his head. His shuddering shoulders began to calm as he sucked in large gulps of air, evening out his breathing until he could pull back to look her in the eyes. 

“You’re right,” he mumbled. He knew she always was. “We can do this,” he affirmed, more to himself than to Betty. She reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. 

“We can do this.”

***

“Ugh, why did Veronica have to set a dress code? Who wears smart-casual to a barbecue?!” Betty shouted as she tried to pull the zipper up her back, the fabric of her dress pulling tight over her giant, swollen belly. She’d certainly grown during her pregnancy. Jughead told her daily that he’d never seen her more beautiful. She didn’t believe him, usually telling him so as she wiped yet more sweat off her forehead, or relieved herself of more bodily gasses. She felt utterly gross. “I’m so huge!” she sulked, throwing herself onto the edge of their bed as quickly as she could manage. 

“Beautiful, Betts, you’re beautiful!” Jughead reminded yet again, shouting from their bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, rubbing a motherly hand over their daughter. “Oh!” she called suddenly as she felt a clenching sensation in her lower abdomen. “Juggie?” she called tentatively, waiting for the sensation to hit again. 

“It really doesn’t matter what you wear, Betts, it’s just Veronica and Archie’s barbecue, no one will mind,” he replied back, misinterpreting her call.

“Jughead, come in here,” she said, more firm this time. His head appeared in the doorway, brows raised at her sharp tone. 

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m going into labour,” she told him, raising her eyebrows in return. She could see the moment the panic switch flicked on in his eyes. He dashed about the room, throwing things all over the place. “Juggie, calm down, we have time!” she tried to soothe, unable to stop herself from laughing at her overly concerned husband. 

“Bag! Where’s the bag? Have you seen my keys? Babe, are you okay, you’re not gonna have her right now are you?” he fired off in a fluster. Betty just rolled her eyes, waddling slowly towards the front door, knowing he’d be close behind. 

“Come on, Juggie,” she laughs, “Let’s go have a baby.”

***

He was in awe. Even a week later he couldn’t believe he’d made something so wonderful, so beautiful, so small. She was perfect. He ran a finger over her tiny, soft fist, other arm wrapped tightly around Betty’s shoulders as they both stared down at their daughter. Theirs. The life they made together. 

“She has your eyes,” she mumbled as Juliet blinked up at them with her big blue gaze. Jughead smiled, happy to be any part of her. He could see Betty in her entirely, though, something he was sure he’d be eternally grateful for.

“She has your wisdom,” he whispered, grinning as her tiny flower petal lips opened in a perfect O while she yawned. “Thank you,” he whispered against Betty’s temple some time later, both of them still watching their daughter soundly sleeping in Betty’s arms now, releasing the occasional snuffle as she dreamed. 

“Thank you, too,” Betty replied, turning her head to barely brush her lips against his. They had made a new life, not just in their daughter, but for each other, and that was something he’d never be able to stop saying thank you for.


End file.
